


We Stand As One

by orphan_account



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: F/M, I’m sorry, Please Don’t Hate Me, please help me, please this took me seven months
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-07 11:33:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19208551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After the colossal fall of the American government and change in atmosphere, Beatrice finds herself separated from not only her husband and daughter, but all that’d she’d known up until that point.Stripped of her identity and pride, Beatrice must fight to survive all the while staying within the new lands restrictive boundaries, needing to find ways to live without even the barest of necessities.And yet with the little time she has, the same looming question makes itself prominent:For just how long can she live like this?(Read notes for explanation)





	We Stand As One

**Author's Note:**

> ...I know this looks bad to be pairing a children’s series up with a dystopian story based around biblical r*pe, but please let me explain.
> 
> As far as I can tell at this point (of planing out the story) nothing of that nature will be a part of this story. None. The only thing that may be seen as such is the mentioning of such, to which I’ll try and put a trigger warning/include it in chapters that should one choose, can be skipped all together. Though I can’t say much without spoiling EVERYTHING, it won’t play out like in the original story.
> 
> Anyway, for some explanation, I was super hesitant on writing this because of the reputation given to the story by the show (Whoo Hulu, killing my AU’s). Though it’s a great show, this story is mainly based on the 1985 Margret Atwood story The Handmaids Tale, except cut out that stuff and replace it with eerie, mysterious, who can you trust madness.
> 
> The entire concept just doesn’t sit right with me. While I do think it has the potential to be one of the best pieces I’ve written, I just feel like to mix it in with my other (mostly) family friendly work would be wrong. I hope you guys can understand.
> 
> I think thats about it, save for different titles and just what happened for it to get to this point.. (https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/handmaid/summary/ , The first two paragraphs give a basic explanation without spoiling everything)
> 
> Now, I'm sure theres much worse fanfics that have been written for this fandom, but I have what the French call 'angoisse' and feel like anything I've ever done is a mistake,,,
> 
> So yeah, I apologize in advanced for a questionable 3 am prompt I gave myself :’)
> 
> Enjoy?

“Sorry Snicket didn’t even make a point to meet you down here. He’s is so often stuck in his books, he forgets he has a doomed country to help run.” The lady in green dressed hummed, rolling her eyes and pulling a cigarette from one of her large pockets. “Or excuse me, Commander Snicket. Mind my manners, or I’ll be the next one on that wall.”

She waited for a response- whether it be a laugh or a tongue lashing-, but once it became clear that nothing was to come she turned away to address whatever struck her fancy. While it’s true you’d likely get nothing more than a finger severed for disrespecting a person’s title, the possibility of ending up with a noose around your neck was a very real possibility and this point and time.

“What part are you from? From before, that is. Can’t say I know the geography by heart, seeing as we're constantly losing and gaining land.” The lady mumbled around the newly lit cigarette. It was interesting, actually. You see very few people smoking anymore, and if you do it’d be the higher-ups. Commanders, maybe even Wives. Yet here stood a martha, a grouping considered little more important than someone in the colonies, lighting one as if you could still easily go to a store and buy a pack. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

I merely peered up the woman and shook my head, the damned phrase “Blessed are the meek” repeating over and over in my head. The nights spent in front of the outdated and misogynistic screens, filled with different slideshows and documentaries presenting a number of topics. With stories anywhere from to sudden decline in children and sudden rise of abortions, or the ones showing the horrid conditions of the colonies. And god help the ones who happened to be a gender traitor. A woman sleeping with another woman? Why, they might as well be wishing for a place in hell.

That is, for the ones believe in it. I’ve always been partial to Sheol.

“Shit, they scare you that much?” The woman noted with a bit of disgust in her voice. “That you don’t speak? Do any of you speak?”

“Depends what you have to say.” I finally mumbled, preparing myself for the worst. The last thing you want to do is speak out against someone of higher rank. “Eyes, tongues, fingers.. I met someone who lost an entire arm for refusing to take the pills.”

The lady peered on, carefully choosing her words. “Good to know.” She said awkwardly. “Jacquelyn, by the way. I’m supposed to be the martha here, but Snicket often times preferes no one touches his stuff and rarely eats anything more than canned goods and whatever fruit we can scrounge. I’m convinced he just keeps me around to prove his status. It’s not much, but I guess it beats scooping waste or fighting on the front lines.”

I nod my head, not wanting to anger Jacquelyn. Sure, she seems decent, but those are typically the ones you have to watch out for. They’re typically the ones who report back to the ones that get you in the most trouble.

“I’m..not from here.” I say cautiously. “My parents were from Holland, and I spent a fair amount of my days traveling from country to country. Met a man in Belgium, and had a kid in France. Went on holiday in Nevada.. and got torn from my family in Ohio. They shut off the airways about a week before we tried to get out, and yet they kept insisted that everything would be fine, we’d be able to go home in a matter of days.”

Jacquelyn attempted move over as a form of comfort, but thought better of it. Though the idea of having a shoulder to cry on felt nice, there was no use in doing so. There was no use in giving in, not yet at least. There had to be a way out.

“Did they..?” 

Did they get killed? Did they escape? Did they get caught? Did they get sent away? Did they make it to Canada? All questions I continue to ask myself with each passing day. Of course, I want to say they got out, they made it to Canada, but who can really be sure? Not me, not any of us. The only people that now are my husband, daughter, and the damn bastards that dragged me away.

“I don’t know,” I shrug off. No use in trying to confirm what I can’t be sure of. “We made it to South Bass Island, 10 miles from the Canadian border, Sunny’s Grotto I think. We would have gotten out, should we have been smart enough. Guess it slipped our minds that some universities could be bought over with a large enough sum. There was a private island, used for research and classes. In later years it was used for round-ups and trafficking.”

“That’s harsh.” Jacquelyn mused, pulling the cigarette from her mouth and tapping it to cause the burnt end to fall. “I just didn’t like men. I was ridiculed, shamed even, for loving the same gender. My parents even disapproved of my life choices, saying how having children would be fun. Guess I was lucky, going against their wishes.”

I attempted the realest smile I could without seeming condescending. Not too forced to make it look like I was plotting something but not too little to make it seem bored. The pleasantries didn’t last long, though, as once the interaction was over once the house’s starecase began to creak under the pressure of someone walking down them.

With the creaking, emerged a man. He was older, maybe 35, with wrinkles starting to form under his eyes and a peppering of grey throughout his hair. In his hand, and worn out copy of “And Then There Were None”, and covering his eyes were a victorian style pair of glasses dawning a small crack in the corner. Not enough to prevent a person from seeing, but still noticeable. Not that it mattered, anyone with a mdeical degree, should that be for abortions or dermatology, were promply slaughtered. Save for the few who played their way through, you’d likely have to buy through a third party to get a new pair.

“Jacquelyn, please tell me they had carrots and the market. Monty said officials were able to transport them from Wisconsin, and it feels like I haven't had them in years.” He grumbles, walking past the two. “And peaches. But not the mushy ones, don’t let them give you the mushy peaches.”

“Yes, Sir, but-”

“And tell Larry I won’t be here next week, and that he’s in charge of the house. Make sure you don’t smuggle some drugs, or something. If you die I’ll have to get a Martha that actually cares about my well being.”

“Flattered, but-”

“And do we happen to have any sort of Aspirin? I know that kind of stuff is frowned upon, and we should be feeding ourselves herbal remedies and other nonsense, but my head is killing me and could currently care less about what this country thinks.”

“Lemony.” Jacquelyn practically shouted, running up behind the man in question and grabbing him by the shoulder. “You’re late.”

Finally looking away from the book in his hand and adjusting his glasses, Lemony briefly peered in my direction before letting out a confused “hmm” and walking closer to where I stood. “And you are..” He said, sounding more confused than anything else.

But before I could answer, Jacquelyn pushed her beside were we stood and pulled a piece of hair behind her ear. “You ought to tell her, seeing as you were the one who ordered her here. And even if you didn’t know her name, the Aunt would have told you should you have been on time.”

The man simply gave Jacquelyn a bored stare and pushed her to the side. It’s not that he despised her, it was more that he just didn’t want to deal with her. Once more, he looked to me, but instead of repeating his question he instead offered a gesture, as if to say “speak”.

“They said you were quite secretive regarding your name, sometimes going as aliases, and others as just “Mr. Snicket”. I was told just to go with whatever name you want or none at all.”

Lemony simply waved his hand is disgust. “Screw the system, it’s all bullshit. Strip them of their names, their lives, they say. It was fine when it was just returning back to older ways and banning certain aspects, but this is just vile.” He said with a sour expression. “What’s your name?”

I briefly peered from Jacquelyn, to back at Lemony. This wasn’t a question you were supposed to be asked.  
“My name?” I wondered aloud, sounding more shocked and caught off guard than I intended. “Sir, you know that’s not permitted, we’ll could be hung, identities are allowed for those of lower ra-”

“Enough,” Lemony groaned aloud, rubbing his temple in annoyance. “Miss, I think this country and what it’s become is absolute bullshit. The amount of shit they’ve done “for a better life” is nonsense, and what they’ve taken away because of it is even worse. And I know, as someone stuck with the short end of the stick, I have reason to believe you’d think the same thing.”

Lemony pulled away from Jacquelyn and had now moved closer to where I stood. It quickly became clear of the height difference, but he didn’t let that affect his tone. Changing his annoyed tone almost completely, he attempted to offer a mediocre smile, to show a sort of comfort.

“So please, if not just for my sanity, would you please tell me your name?”

Jacquelyn rolled her eyes behind Lemony, mouthing something along the lines of ‘He always does this’. So he’s done this before.

“It’s Beatrice. Baudelaire, or Antwhistle, either one works.” I flinch, waiting for the response. “If last names even matter anymore..”

But instead of saying anything, he simply nodded and began to walk away. “Jacquelyn, were you able to get any of that mint tea on the black market?” He mumbled, stumbling towards what was presumably the kitchen. Offering a slight smile and wave, Jacquelyn quickly followed the man, off to help him with whatever he requested.


End file.
